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I tried to give it to her this morning, and she flat out refused.
I can barely think of anything else. Other than Griffin.
He’s too sweet and understanding, and somehow that makes it all worse. I feel like I’m using him, and I feel like he knows that. It’s awful. I stare at the bottle of wine, nearly empty now, and I know I should tell him that I can’t do this right now. It’s all me and not him. Tears burn my eyes. I don’t want to. Not for one second. But I can’t keep doing this to him and I can’t tell him what’s happening. My mother’s story is hers. Her pain is so fresh and fragile, and I don’t trust this town or anyone in it to help her get peace.
Even if she doesn’t get a happily ever after, she should at least have peace. I can help her get that. I have to.
I write out so many messages but I don’t send any.
I’m sick over it all and the one person I wish I could cry to, I just can’t. I can’t tell Mags and drag her down. Not when she’s so close to delivery and going through so much already. I’ve never felt like a weak person, but I have felt this helplessness before. So many times for the same reason, but this time feels heavier.
Maybe I don’t have to end it yet, but won’t that make me a worse person? Because I’m falling for him, and I think he’s falling for me and none of this will ever work. I know it. I know I’ll never be the person he deserves, not when I have to hide so much of who I am.
I think we should go back to pretending, because if this gets too real, I'm going to fall apart.
I type the message out, then delete it. Then I type it up again and send it.
I don't want to explain to him what's really going on. I don't want him to know that about my family and I don’t want to explain to him what my mother’s been through.
Part of getting my fresh start and putting my life back together was supposed to be that I got to leave the past behind. I didn't want to be the girl who wore it all on her sleeve. I know I could just say that I have to be with my mom for Christmas, but Griffin is the kind of person who will care. He'll want to know more about her. He'll ask questions.
And I might give him answers. I like him enough and want him enough to want to tell him the truth. A part of me is dying to tell him because I feel like somehow he’ll just know how to fix it. He seems to know how to fix that part of me deep down inside that’s been hollow and aching for so long. But what if I tell him and he sees just how broken I am?
What if…what if…what if…what if. All the what if’s keep me company in my empty apartment along with messages from Griffin.
He’s too good for me and I know it. I want to tell him, but he has to already know and if he doesn’t, I don’t want him to see that. Not yet.
I'm still on the couch under my blanket, hiding from life, when there's a knock at my door.
I jump off the couch, startled, and drop my phone into the cushions. He didn't come over, did he? Did Mags somehow know something is wrong and decide to drop by? Is my mom okay?
I didn’t realize just how much the wine had gotten to me until I stand up too quickly.
“One second,” I call, then rush over to the kitchen sink in record time and wash my face so it’s not too obvious I was crying. Then I head to the front door.
I look through the peephole, and my heart drops. It's Griffin, standing outside the door to my apartment with his hands in his pockets.
I unlock the door and pull it open, aware of the puffy skin around my eyes. His eyes widen when he sees my face. He knows I've been crying. Washing my face in the kitchen sink didn't help at all. I hoped it would do a little better job than that, but it's too late.
Griffin looks into my eyes for a beat, and then he shakes his head. “What happened, Renee? I didn't mean it. Whatever I said, I didn't mean it. Whatever I did. I don’t know what it was, but I didn’t mean it because I’d never want to upset you.”
“What?” I have no idea what he's talking about. “You didn’t say or do anything.”
He glances around the hallway. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I hold the door open for him, then shut it behind him. When I turn around, he's given me a little space in the small foyer, his hands still in his pockets. “Griffin, I don't know what you're talking about.”
He looks at me, his eyes dark with emotion. “Whatever I did that made you change your mind, I didn't mean it.”
It takes me a minute to even remember which text I sent him. Which truth I unveiled. My eyes sting but I swallow down every bit of emotion. I wish he just knew. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if I didn’t have to betray my mother or open up every little part of me that wants to stay hidden. I wish he just knew.
“You didn't do anything.” My throat gets tight with more tears, but I swallow them down. Now is not a good time to start crying again. Griffin furrows his brow. He obviously doesn't believe me. “Griffin, I mean it. You didn't do anything wrong. You've been great.”
“You're talking about Christmas, right? You can't come with me to my family's Christmas?”
I blink away all my thoughts. Is this about dinner? About the Christmas dinner? It seems so…not as heavy. Words evade me as I try to make my brain work right. “I can make that up to you,” I say, although I don’t know how. It’s important to him I’m sure. In ways it never was for my family. In ways that are different from the things I’m going through. I didn’t think he’d care this much, but for him to look at me like the way he is over turning down an invitation, it meant more to him. I can see that. Shit, shit, shit. I wish he just knew.
I want to go with him so badly that I almost backtrack, but I can't do that to my mom. Not after everything she's done for me. Not when she’s so close to being safe for the first time.
